“No one is good at Latin,” he joked.
Miss Bentley laughed, as he’d hoped she would. “My tutor spent hours having me work on pronunciation, and I was terrible at it.”
“Surely you couldn’t have been that bad.”
“There is a reason why I do not boast that as one of my accomplishments.”
Roswell placed a hand on his horse’s neck. “I must admit that I am quite proficient at Latin,” he confessed. “After all, I did study philosophy at Oxford.”
“How I envy you that you were able to attend university.”
Before he could reply, Emma reined in her horse near them. “I saw you two were skipping stones,” she said. “May I ask who won?”
“I’m afraid your brother beat me quite soundly,” Miss Bentley admitted.
“Take heart, Miss Bentley,” Roswell encouraged. “If you keep practicing, I have no doubt that you will eventually beat me.”
Miss Bentley offered him a private smile. “That is kind of you to say, but I don’t believe it to be true.”
Roswell glanced up at the sky. “It might be best if we head back,” he remarked. “I have business I need to attend to.”
“That is a fine idea,” Miss Bentley agreed.
He stepped closer to her and intertwined his fingers. “Allow me,” he said as he leaned down in front of her.
Miss Bentley placed her hands on his shoulders before she put her boot into his waiting hands. As he lifted her onto the side saddle, he worked hard to pretend that her nearness did not affect him. But it did, greatly.
Roswell had just stepped into the entry hall when Thorne approached him. “Mr. Manley is in your study.”
“Thank you.” He turned towards Miss Bentley. “Considering this concerns you, would you care to join me?”
Miss Bentley gave him a surprised look, but quickly recovered. “I would appreciate that greatly, my lord.”
He gestured towards the rear of the townhouse. “After you, then.”
They didn’t speak as they headed towards his study. Once they arrived, he stood to the side to allow her to enter the room first.
After he followed her inside, he acknowledged his solicitor with a tip of his head before providing the introductions. “Miss Bentley, allow me to introduce you to my solicitor, Mr. Manley.”
She smiled politely. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Mr. Manley gave her a brief smile. “Likewise,” he said.
Roswell came around his desk and indicated that they should sit. Once Miss Bentley lowered herself onto a chair, he took his seat. “I have asked Miss Bentley to join us, and you may speak freely around her.”
Mr. Manley bobbed his head. “As you wish,” he said.
“What did you find out?”
“Lord Worthington did file a copy of his will with the church probate court, and I have personally reviewed it myself.”
“That is wonderful news,” Miss Bentley gushed.
“It is,” Mr. Manley replied, shifting in his chair to face Miss Bentley. “Your father was quite generous to your mother and yourself. He made allowances for you, even if you decided not to wed.”
“I was not aware of that,” Miss Bentley said.
“If you do not marry by the time you reach your majority, then your dowry proceeds to you as an inheritance,” Mr. Manley explained.
